Eyes of Fire
by The Patil Twins
Summary: What did Fawkes see of The Boy Who Lived? Written for the golden snitch forum.


Eyes of Fire

School: Gryffindor

House: Ravenclaw

Prompt: World Vegan Day (phoenix)

Written for The Golden Snitch Forum

Disclaimer: We don't own Harry Potter, though that physically hurts us.

Note: From Fawkes's POV

* * *

The first time Fawkes saw the boy, it wasn't what he expected. He watched as this spitting image of James Potter walked into Dumbledore's office, LilyEvan's green eyes gleaming from behind his face. Fawkes wished he wasn't at this stage in his life. He could physically feel the flames coming to life inside him, ready to explode at any moment. Yet when the boy came closer, he felt something click. He was confused, but he knew, that when something clicked within him, that memory would stay within him forever. There were certain things he knew, that had clicked, that stayed with him throughout his rebirths. And Fawkes had seen a lot.

The boy was stuck his hand through the cage. Fawkes was about to react when the flames turn into a ball of fire. He glimpsed the boy jump back in fright and his master walk in the room before his vision was obscured by blinding red, then orange, then dark.

As good as new, the miniature Fawkes blinked his eyes blearily, chunks of memory coming back to him. When he was reborn, only the important remembrances came back to him, and so he wasn't surprised when he was able to recognize James Potter standing above him.

But it wasn't James. No, this boy lacked the look of mischievousness in his eyes, which were not at all hazel, but a bright green, forcibly reminding him of a girl with fiery red hair …

Due to his rebirth, he merely watched weakly as his master urged the boy away and attempted to explain the mysteries of phoenix life. Now Fawkes rarely clicked with humans. Other than Dumbledore and a mysterious man named Wegan, Fawkes hadn't clicked with humans for almost half a century. Yet there was something special about this boy ...

* * *

The next time Fawkes saw the boy was a year later. He watched anxiously as his master strolled about his office, muttering to himself and looking extremely worried. Often at times, he would glance at the ragged old hat sitting in the corner, and then at Fawkes himself, and then resume his pacing. Fawkes could feel the light of his fire brewing in him again, but it wasn't time for his rebirth. He couldn't understand this, until he let out a piercing cry of pain, and an image of the boy, slowly bleeding to death, flashed before him.

Dumbledore froze and looked at Fawkes as if he had been expecting this. Fawkes understood that the boy was in danger, and understood what he had to do when Dumbledore, in one sweeping motion, gave the Hat to Fawkes to hold, and let him out of his cage.

Fawkes swooped away into the hallway, and went through the open passageway in the girls' bathroom that led to the notorious Chamber of Secrets. There, he glimpsed the boy backing away from the Basilisk, a creature feared amongst all creatures.

Fawkes shuddered in fright at the sight of the great, long snake, and the shimmering sixteen-year-old memory egging it on, and dropped the Hat into the boy's lap. The boy blinked at it, then, perhaps in desperation, put the Hat on his hand and closed his eyes tightly. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, Fawkes heard a combination of a loud thud and clang, and flew overhead to see the boy rubbing his head slightly, and brandishing the sword of Gryffindor.

Fawkes continued to swoop overhead the battle, becoming increasingly concerned with every attack the Basilisk made. He could feel his master's wariness combining with the boy's confusion and fear, and did not respond immediately as the snake struck, piercing the boy's arm. The boy crumpled in pain, and Fawkes, snapping out of his reverie, flew down to the boy's arm and started to weep. At first, Riddle scoffed. Then, as the boy's arm began to heal, Fawkes's own pain began to diminish. He felt the boy's arm heal, and his master's tension fade suddenly.

And quick as a flash, with Fawkes still on his arm, the boy puncture the snake's eyes and stabbed a battered old book beneath him. Fawkes felt the boy's triumph, his master's relief, and almost squawked in relief himself.

* * *

It seemed Fawkes always saw the boy in times of peril. He saw him, slightly taller with messier hair, walk into the Headmaster's office. The boy made a beeline for Fawkes's cage, and stretched his hand out.

"Hello, Fawkes," he said, fondly, whilst stroking Fawkes's head. Fawkes felt a warm feeling inside him, as he always did when the humans he connected with were close. He was glad he was in the middle of his handsome phase, for the last time the boy had looked at him properly, it wasn't particularly pleasant.

The boy took his hand out of the cage and glanced round the room, evidently waiting for Dumbledore. Then he noticed the open cupboard Dumbledore had so hastily closed when the door opened. Fawkes knew that the curiosity of humans was limitless, sometimes dangerous, yet he didn't know why he expected the boy to be different. He watched helplessly as the boy discovered the Memory Bowl, as Fawkes called it, and disappear in a shimmer. He only hoped it was nothing dangerous.

* * *

It had been a year since Fawkes had seen so many students in his master's office. Yet there they were, 4 redhead Weasley children, and the boy, his dark-haired head contrasting marvelously against the red ones. Quietly, Dumbledore avoided the gaze of the boy, only pausing to address Fawkes in the heavy silence that hung in the air after the boy's explanation.

"We will need," he said, "a warning."

Fawkes disappeared in a flash of fire, reappearing in the corridor which was previously undisturbed due to the dead of night. Now, however, he heard nervous whispers floating down the hall, and tensed, ready to send the 'warning' Dumbledore had requested. To his relief, however, he only saw Minerva McGonagall and Filius Flitwick pacing down the hall hurriedly, barely missing the movement of McGonagall's mouth, addressing him.

"She's on her way," she said, then bustled off in Flitwick's wake.

Fawkes heard the clicking of heels and flew behind a statue, almost revealing himself to the plump woman walking down the hall to Dumbledore's office. When she was gone, he shed his feather and watched it make a small explosion as it disappeared.

Fawkes couldn't remember the last time he had seen the boy without the threat of danger upon them. He was swooping overhead, watching the Dark Lord, anger and pain dwelling up in his mind, the boy writhing on the floor while Dumbledore tried to protect him. At times, the pain was too much and Fawkes had to stop flying for some time. Then suddenly, he felt a lurch of panic in his stomach and flew instinctively in front of the boy, swallowing a jet of light whole. Everything stopped, time slowed, and the only thing moving was Fawkes, and he was surely dead, he was certain the spell had finally managed to kill the old bird. Then everything resumed, and he was an infant again, lying helplessly on the ground while the battle around him raged.

Someone scooped him into their pocket, and although Fawkes did not know who, he felt a certain warmth inside of him.

* * *

The last time Fawkes saw the boy was in the North Tower. He had seen the boy and Dumbledore leave together, making their towards Hogsmeade, but started to become impatient and eventually worried on their late return.

That's when he heard the explosions.

He flew outside to see a massive battle raging, and flew around, protecting students from curses, deflecting hexes, all the while awaiting Dumbledore's return.

Just deflecting another spell, he heard a familiar voice yell "NO!", and glimpsed a shadowy figure running towards a fallen one. Fawkes circles overhead, unseen, and began to weep silently as he saw the body on the ground.

It was Dumbledore.

A few hours later, Fawkes stood alone in the Forest, mourning his master, now feeling the hollow hole in him that had once been Dumbledore's twinkling eyes, his warm laugh. Fawkes began to sing.

It was a slow, sweet, song, indicating sadness and grief, also accompanied by numbness and understanding. It was the song of fire.


End file.
